


just the two of us (and the rest of the neighborhood).

by missgine (blueberry_muffin)



Series: fire meet gasoline [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Some Minor OCs - Freeform, but oh well, excuse me as i pull american suburbia cliches out of my ass, mikoto thinks they should have just invested in a warehouse instead, minor character death that's used to further plot cuz i'm a bad author, that's it that's the story, the continuation of the mr and mrs smith mikorei, they get a new house, they move to a suburb, this was supposed to be serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberry_muffin/pseuds/missgine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reisi and Mikoto get a new house.</p>
<p>[aka mr and mrs smith!mikorei suffering in suburbia hell]</p>
            </blockquote>





	just the two of us (and the rest of the neighborhood).

Mikoto sighs as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s too hot to even be outside much less moving. And yet here he is, hauling box after box into his and Reisi’s new house, in a new suburb, because this is what his husband wants (and they’re also in hiding, but that’s not important). Mikoto doesn’t really see the point in this (they could have had a nice hideout with all their weapons in an abandoned warehouse, but _of course_ the prissy princess wanted a new house). Mikoto honestly thinks that getting a new house is a waste of time considering they might blow it up themselves (again), but there’s no arguing with Reisi when he sets his mind on something.

 

[“Why do we have to move to another suburb? Do you remember what happened the last time we tried suburbia life?!”

 

“Don’t be daft! That was different-“

 

“How was that different?

 

“That life and house were based on lies; we are not and do not have to hide from each other anymore.”

 

For the life of him, Mikoto will vehemently deny that’s the reason he agreed.]

 

Mikoto walks back out into the burning sun and just as he is about to grab another box, the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his instincts say that there is someone approaching him from behind. His eyes dart around. All of their weapons were the first things sorted and put away, all during the cover of night so as not to raise suspicion. The closest weapons currently are the moving boxes and while he would hate to initiate one of Reisi’s tantrums by breaking something, he’d rather be alive to hear them. He’s about to shove a box into the person coming up fast when a plate is set down on top of it.

 

“Hello there, new neighbor!”

 

Mikoto closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. What he would give to have the woman standing next to him be a bounty hunter instead (at least then he would have reasonable explanation as to why he killed her).

 

“I’m Tsukiko and I live next door with my husband, Sajirou. This pie is for you, I hope you enjoy it!”

 

Mikoto grunts in reply, picks up the remaining two boxes left (like hell he’s going back outside), and walks quickly back into his and Reisi’s new house.

 

“I would like to invite you and your husband to dinner tonight at six! It was nice meeting you!”

 

Is what Mikoto hears before he can slam the door shut. He groans in irritation as he places the boxes down and stretches his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders. He walks to the kitchen to find Reisi sorting out their china and silver into their new respective cabinets. He brushes past him and opens a drawer, flicking open a hidden latch and pulling out a small handgun from the secret compartment.

 

“What do you need that for?”

 

“I’m gonna kill our neighbors.”

 

Reisi sighs in exasperation. “Mikoto, you cannot kill our neighbors.”

 

“Why not? What if they’re really sent to kill us?”

 

Reisi rolls his eyes. “I background checked the entire _prefecture_ -“

 

“Yeah, well, I also background checked you and looked how that turned out.”

 

“Mikoto, you cannot use me as an example! Our situation is unique. Besides, you can’t kill our neighbors when they have graciously invited us over for dinner tonight.”

 

“Shit, they gotcha first.”

 

“Yes, they did, and yes, we are attending, so put that away and start helping me sort out our things, you lazy brute.”

 

“Why the fuck are we going through this much trouble?! Coulda just hid in a nice warehouse _without_ neighbors. But _no,_ the princess just wanted another house,” Mikoto grumbles to himself as he stashes the gun away again.

 

He gets a fork thrown at him for his trouble.

 

-

 

Mikoto arms are crossed in front of him. He’s leaning on the door frame to his and Reisi’s new closet, watching Reisi knot a tie against his throat in the full body mirror. Mikoto rolls his eyes when Reisi slides on a pressed jacket, smoothing out invisible wrinkles and wiping off nonexistent dust.

 

“Are you done?”

 

Reisi rolls his eyes and steps towards Mikoto, hand outstretched and straightening his collar, frowning disapprovingly at his already rolled up sleeves. Mikoto scoffs.

 

“We’re only goin’ for dinner, dunno why we have to wear all this shit, it’s fucking hot outside.”

 

Reisi says nothing, used to his husband’s whining and goes to tuck in Mikoto’s shirt himself when-

 

“Why are you armed?”

 

“What if-“

 

“They do not want to kill us, nor will they try to.”

 

“What if I wanna kill them?”

 

“Mikoto, so help me if you do not behave-“

 

“Ah, ah, let’s just get this over with.”

 

\--

 

“I’m so glad the two of you could make it! I hope you enjoy the spread I’ve set out for you!”

 

“It looks delightful, Sato-san.” Reisi says, smiling at the woman, Mikoto grunts his response next to him. Mikoto eyes the sparkles around his husband, unamused.  

 

“Oh, you can call me Tsukiko, Munakata-san.”

 

“If you insist, Tsukiko-kun.”

 

Mikoto sighs, almost loud enough to be heard and Reisi elbows him inconspicuously.

 

-

 

“So, what do the two of you do for a living?” Tsukiko asks cheerily, utensils clacking away on her plate.

 

Mikoto and Reisi side eye each other. They’ve laid out their cover story and now it’s finally time to use it.

 

“I work in an advertising firm,” Reisi offers, Mikoto nodding along. “And Mikoto works in an architectural one.”

 

“Mm,” starts Sajirou, swallowing his food. “Where do you work, Munakata-san? Maeda Advertising? I work there as well, perhaps we will see more of each other.”

 

Reisi imperceptibly stiffens, only Mikoto noticing his change of posture. “Do you? I don’t know if we’d see each other too often Sato-san, I usually lose track of time when working. I admit, I am a perfectionist and like to have clean, precise results.”

 

Sajirou expression dims and Reisi placates, “But since I am newly starting, perhaps you could show me around the building?” Sajirou blinks and smiles at him, nodding.

 

Mikoto rolls his eyes as he continues eating.

 

-

 

Mikoto sighs in relief when he and Reisi finally cross the threshold of their house. He leans against the door for a moment before he takes off his shoes and rolls his eyes whens he sees Reisi left his pair out for him to put away too; Mikoto can hear his light footfalls on the stairs.

 

Reisi, despite what everyone seems to think of him, is a fucking mess. Less figurative, and more literal. Mikoto is always the one picking up after him, picking up discarded shirts and socks, putting away his shoes, clearing away his dishes to the sink; Mikoto doesn’t want to even think about the clutter Reisi could cause without him.      

 

Which is why when he enters the kitchen, Mikoto immediately knows something’s wrong.

 

The counter is clear of clutter, utensils put away, fruit in the bowl, dishes placed in the sink. It’s clean-too clean. Reisi, Mikoto knows, would never be this clean.

 

He relaxes his posture and walks moderately to the sink, takes his mug, fills it and takes a sip. He places it back down and grabs Reisi’s in the same hand, lifting a gleaming spoon and tilts it up, thankful that Reisi is anal about his silver. Just as the image comes through on the surface of the spoon, Mikoto lunges to the side, a few ninja stars embedded in the cabinet below the sink.

 

Mikoto glances up from his crouch and sees a man dressed in all black (cliché), who reaches behind him for his holster. Mikoto doesn’t give him a chance. He chucks the mugs in his hands at the man in black’s head and doesn’t wait to hear his grunts of surprise before he’s tackling the man at the waist.

 

From there it’s a flurry of hard punches and swift kicks. Mikoto admits to himself that the man is fast-but he’s not Reisi fast. He stabilizes his stance and catches the kick in his hand, he uses his grip to pull the man forward and unbalance him, throwing away his gun. He’s about to punch the man when he sees a glint in the corner of his eye and dodges in time for the small dagger to miss the shot at his ribs. Mikoto hisses as it catches his arm though.   

 

Mikoto hears gunshots from upstairs and can barely give Reisi a second thought before the man in black pulls out another dagger and charges at him. Mikoto leaps over the counter, and pulls open a drawer violently, utensils spilling out onto the floor nosily. He takes a butter knife in hand, balances it in his palm, and throws it.

 

The knife embeds itself in the man’s throat, his arms freezing from where he was poised to throw his own dagger at Mikoto, body landing with a thud. Mikoto opens a cabinet and grabs the hidden rifle in it, loading magazines as he walks quickly, eyes scanning his surroundings.

 

Just as he’s turning the corner to go up the stairs, he almost walks into the person walking down it. Mikoto’s rifle is immediately cocked and ready to shoot, arms steady.  

 

A heartbeat-

 

-Mikoto’s shoulders relax, standing in front of him is Reisi.

 

Reisi‘s eyebrows are raised as he looks from Mikoto rifle pointed at his chest and back to Mikoto. Mikoto rolls his eyes as he himself stares pointedly at the knives Reisi has pointed at him, one at his jugular and one at his balls, both ready to stab at a moment’s notice. They withdraw their weapons from each other’s person simultaneously.

 

Mikoto gives Reisi a look that says _Really?_ as he brushes past Mikoto to walk down the rest of the stairs and heads to the kitchen. Reisi shrugs and smiles at him.

 

Reisi doesn’t spare the body on the floor a second glance, gliding right over it, and sidestepping the scattered utensils on floor. He hops onto the counter and opens a cabinet, standing on the counter to get the nice wine glasses in the far back. Mikoto walks to the fridge and pulls a wine bottle out, kept for nights like this.

 

Reisi doesn’t hop down from the counter, choosing to sit on the edge, ankles crossed as he waits for Mikoto. Mikoto closes the fridge and walks towards him, he picks up a discarded knife and jabs it through the foil and into the cork of the bottle, twisting and pulling it free.

 

He pours Reisi’s glass first, handing it to him as he pushes his legs apart, settling between them. Reisi hums as alcohol burns down his throat, eyes closing as he relaxes against the cabinets. He can feel one of Mikoto’s hands warm on his thigh, hear his quiet breathing. His eyes open immediately when Mikoto lets out a small hiss, finally remembering the small gash on his arm from earlier.

 

Reisi observes the cut, before pulling Mikoto forward and tearing the bottom of his T-shirt off, wrapping it around the wound.

 

“Seriously?!” Mikoto grumbles.

 

Reisi blinks innocently at him. “Your shirt is cheaper than mine.”

 

Mikoto glares. Reisi’s lips twitch.

 

Reisi raises an eyebrow. Mikoto pounces.

 

[For the record, Reisi doesn’t complain when his own shirt gets torn by Mikoto.]

 

**Author's Note:**

> there'll be more neighbors (of all kinds), don't worry XD


End file.
